Dappled Things

For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough;
And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.

I couldn’t help myself. Not with all these autumn leaves, and the marbled light of the Lake District. I love the alliteration of this poem, and its strangeness. And sometimes my days seem dappled – how easy it is to switch from sadness to joy, from hope to tedium and back again. Not so much as I used to, ten years ago. Now it is easier to accept my days as dappled. These differing emotions are not so much interwoven, as flecked.

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2 thoughts on “Dappled Things”

Yes, and those feelings of gratitude do help to steady the emotions while keeping open the channels to empathy and creativity… And wanting to teach…And enjoying teaching…And spreading it around…Good on you…Oops, does that make sense?